They are wet with the showers of the hills, and have embraced a rock for lack of shelter.
They spend the night naked, without a garment, and without covering in the cold.
They snatch away the fatherless from the breast, and take a pledge from the poor;
I was sleeping, But my heart was awake – the voice of my beloved! He knocks, “Open for me, my sister, My love, my dove, my perfect one; For my head is drenched with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.”
Those who ate delicacies Have been laid waste in the streets; Those who were brought up in scarlet Have embraced dunghills.
of whom the world was not worthy – wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes of the earth.